


Aurora Borealis

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Children, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Holidays, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-05
Updated: 2007-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: CJ gets her Nobel





	Aurora Borealis

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Aurora Borealis

CJ/Danny; Josh/Donna; a truckload of other West Wing folks and other characters 

Rating Adult – sexual activity and discussion of conception 

Spoilers through end of series 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed 

\-------------------------------------------- 

_December 8, 2010; somewhere over the Maritime Provinces_

Danny Concannon pressed the “Print” icon and the next student paper began its migration from CD to hard copy. Then he turned his attention to the one he had just taken from the printer. After he finished reading and grading this one and the one now printing, he would be able to call it quits for the night and would be able to get some sleep. He should be able to get to the final twenty-one papers by the 12th and then FedEx the whole bunch to the school. 

At least they had the comfort and convenience of the Hollis jet for this trip. Earlier in the day, he and CJ had kissed Paddy good-bye, leaving him in the capable care of Diana and Frank. Then Steve drove them to the airport where Frank, Sarita, and the others were waiting for them. 

“We’re so proud of you, CJ.” Steve kissed her and gave Danny a hug as he dropped them at the General Aviation terminal. “And I think that I’ll never get Hank off the ceiling; he can’t believe that you’ll be wearing his dresses and suits for the Peace Prize events in Oslo. We’ll be watching for you guys on CNN!” 

There were ten people on the plane, not including the crew. Sarita’s brother and his wife, Frank’s mother and an uncle, and CJ's brother and his wife Gina were making the trip to see Frank and CJ get the Nobel. Robin and Erin would be flying in from Ireland. Hogan would be coming in from the Indian Ocean on a roundabout way back to the Washington Navy Yard and her submariner husband. Mrs. Vinick would meet them in Oslo tomorrow; she had been meeting with some Finnish and Danish philanthropists concerning funds for “Road to a Better World”. 

They had refueled at Bangor. Everyone else was sleeping except for Frank Hollis. He was pouring over some corporate reports on the other side of the plane. Come to think of it, Danny couldn’t remember the man sleeping. He wondered where he got his energy. 

He made a few corrections in red, wrote a couple of comments on the paper he was grading. “Good points, good research. If it weren’t for the spelling and grammar mistakes, it would have rated an ‘A-’. In journalism, we are held to a higher standard.” He put a big “B+” on the top of the first page, put the paper on the pile of completed ones, and picked up the final one from the paper tray. 

After he finished with the last paper, he gathered his things, picked up his glass, and finished the last of the whiskey. It wasn’t Robin’s, but it was still good. 

Then he sighed. He still couldn’t believe how much grief he had been given over his wishes to give his students a take-home final this semester. After several days’ discussion, he and the department chair had compromised on a paper that would compose 50 percent of the “final” and a combined “multiple choice/short answer” exam that would compose the other half. Yes, he freely admitted, part of the plan was because nothing short of a medical emergency was going to keep him from being in Oslo when the King of Norway put the medal around CJ’s neck. But most of it was because he wanted his students to come away from his classes with more than facts memorized for the final and then forgotten within the next two months, if not sooner. 

Then he made his way to the curtained off area where two extra-wide and extra-long reclining seats had been converted into a queen-sized bed, changed into a pair of flannel pajamas, and lay down beside his sleeping wife. He kissed her neck where it met her shoulder and, draping an arm in the general area of her waist, drifted off into dreamland. 

When CJ was sure that Danny was asleep, she cautiously turned over and gently smoothed the lightening red (with more and more light gray) locks from his forehead. She knew he needed his rest and didn’t want to disturb him. 

He had been working so hard since the middle of November just to be able to come with her to Norway, to be there for the Nobel ceremony and the other events, and then to be able to spend some time in Washington with Josh, Donna, and their recently doubled in size family (including their new godson), to visit with Carol and David, to be feted by the President, and to witness the baptism of Rick and Ginger’s little Matty. 

First, he had to talk with his professors at USC and the Annenberg School to get his final “take home exam” topics and then research and write those papers. Other than a few hours with everyone at (where else?) the Feldman’s for Thanksgiving dinner, the entire holiday weekend was spent in the library or at the laptop in his den. Then, when his department chair at West LA CC finally agreed to his plans, he had to write the two “objective” final exams, work with the computing lab to reserve the space for each class to take the test online (one on the 13th, one on the 14th), set up the security, arrange with a sympathetic fellow teacher for proctoring, and arrange to have the files containing each student’s answers transmitted to him in Washington on the 15th so he could correct them and file grades within the time limit. 

She recalled how he groused about it, how he couldn’t wait to finish his degree and begin teaching at “grown up” college. “Swear to God, CJ,” he vented, “they treat the students and the teachers as if they were still in junior-high. I know of high schools that use the methods I want to use for finals.” And all she could do at the time was to offer kisses, sympathy, and to pour him a glass of his brother-in-law’s pot-still whiskey. 

But now, she had it in her power to do something that might help, not in the immediate future, but in the long run; or, rather, to bring the “long run” closer to the present. The question was, should she do it? 

She asked Jed Bartlet, both as a man and as someone who was once given the same benefit she would be receiving. She asked Frank Hollis, who gave her the opportunity that resulted in her being given this benefit. She asked Father Luke to give her some direction from a religious point of view. She asked Paul for his religious point of view and also for his thoughts on how he (and, in many respects, Paul was like Danny) would react to such an action. 

Everyone gave her points to consider; no one told her what to do. So, she was still trying to decide. In two days, she would receive, as her share for the Peace Prize, a check for the Swedish equivalent of a bit more than $500,000. Should she donate the entire sum (after having Steve determine what she would need for taxes) to “Road to a Better World” or should she use some of the money to pay for the rest of Danny’s educational costs, to allow him attend school full-time, to finish the course work and write the dissertation as quickly as possible, to not have to teach at the community college, to write the columns and take on book assignments only if he really wanted to do so? 

The former president told her that he had endowed a scholarship at Notre Dame with his award, but that he and Abbey already had their degrees and that his family money kept them quite comfortable. Frank said that his particular financial situation was so far removed from hers that he didn’t feel right offering an opinion and that whatever she chose was okay by him; it was his trust in her innate integrity, as well as her track record, that led him to make her CEO of the project in the first place. Father Luke reminded her that her duty to give of her treasure to her fellow human beings did not mean that said fellow human beings had any entitlement to said treasure, and that “it’s not like you’re buying him or yourself a Lamborghini or a Maserati”. Paul told her the same thing as Father Luke and added, “If Alicia had been in a position to have made such an offer to me, I hope I would have had the humility and the grace to have accepted it with the same degree of love with which it was offered.” 

Ah, well, she had time; the end of the year was still three weeks away. Danny had contracted to teach next semester; he would not go back on his word without exigent circumstances. 

She kissed him lightly on the forehead, turned over, and, pulling his arm back over her stomach, and snuggled her butt into his groin. 

And so they slept until the flight staff woke them an hour prior to landing in Oslo. 

_December 10, 2010; Oslo, Norway_

“Madame Cregg-Concannon, I thank you and again I congratulate you.” The Crown Prince bowed to CJ. “Sir, I return to you your wife.” Another bow in Danny’s direction, where he was standing with Sarita Hollis. 

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness.” 

Franklin Hollis and the Crown Princess joined the group with similar formal bows and “thank you”s. 

The first dance of the evening was now complete. There would be other required dances for CJ with the members of the Nobel Peace Prize Committee, but the hard part of the evening, indeed the hard part of the event, was over. She had been given her medal, had made her speech, had eaten dinner at the head table without spilling anything. The rest of the evening would be spent dancing in this beautiful ballroom. 

Tomorrow, there would be more sightseeing and then an evening flight up to the Arctic Circle, to Tromsø, with two nights to try to see the _aurora borealis_ before flying to Washington on the 14th, when President Santos would official honor the Peace Prize laureates with a dinner and dancing. Then the Hollis’ would return to California while CJ and Danny would spend the time until Saturday with their friends. 

“Let me get you on the dance floor before you are claimed by someone whose name I can’t pronounce,” Danny whispered in her ear as he noticed several men looking at his wife from across the way. 

He moved them expertly into an opening in the swirl of dancing couples who were moving in a grand counterclockwise circle to Strauss’ “Emperor Waltz”. Granted, he was biased, but she was easily the most beautiful woman in the room. The sapphire blue dress that Hank had designed for her set off her skin, her hair, and her eyes to perfection. He had augmented the green sapphires he had given her for Carol’s wedding with combs for her hair and with all those green stones against the background of the gown, the only thing he could think of was the “thousand islands” area of Lake Ontario. 

“Have I told you how much I love you, how proud I am of you, how proud I am to be your husband?” 

She looked at him, so handsome in white tie and tails. His face glowed with the emotions he had just expressed. 

“Only about 295 times,” she laughed. “But Danny, if it hadn’t been for you, for not letting me throw you away, for helping me to make the choice to do this with Frank, for letting me gad about all over the world, within your protective restrictions,” she laughed again, “for loving me unconditionally, I could never have achieved what I’ve achieved.” 

Without missing a beat, he pulled her right hand to his mouth and kissed it, feeling the brush of his grandmother’s ring against his lips. It touched him that, except for the final weeks of her pregnancy, when her fingers had swollen, she had not removed it since their wedding day, when she transferred it from her left hand to the right. Tonight, as on other important, “dressy” occasions, she was wearing the emerald-cut diamond he had bought for the twins and given to her for Paddy. The ring she had admired those final months in the White House when Ellie was getting married was next to her wedding band. But tomorrow, it would go back in the traveling jewelry roll. He had been glad to give it to her, in thanks for his son; but he was also glad that she treasured the little ring he gave her that Candlemas night when he asked her to marry him. 

The waltz ended and she was claimed for dancing by members of the committee, then by Franklin Hollis, by her brother, by Robin, by others. He danced with Sarita Hollis, he danced with his sister, with Gina, with Hogan; he even danced with several women of the royal family. 

The orchestra had just finished a set of Glenn Miller tunes. Danny had been dancing with Mrs. Vinick and the two of them were standing with Frank Hollis’ mother and uncle. A second cousin of the Crown Prince escorted CJ to the group. 

The orchestra began another set, this one of show tunes. 

“Thank you so much, Danny, I really enjoyed that. My first husband was an excellent dancer, and Arnie was just as good. He would have loved being here tonight. I’ve missed the dancing.” 

CJ gave Danny an imperceptible nudge and a look passed between them. 

“Then shall we do it again?” he asked the older woman. 

“Oh, no, my dears. We older folk,” she accepted the left arm of Frank’s uncle, who had offered his right to his sister-in-law, “are calling it a night. Dance with your beautiful and brilliant wife. Make some memories.” Her face became a little wistful. “You may need those memories someday. Not soon, please God.” 

CJ and Danny watched the three of them leave the ballroom floor and then joined the other dancing couples. 

_Several hours later_

“Love you. Love you. Love you.” 

Danny kissed CJ’s shoulder from her neck outward as he lowered the zipper of her gown. 

“Remind me to thank Hank for sewing in the bra,” he said. “One less thing to deal with.” He pushed the dress to the floor, and then slipped his hands under the waistband of her slip and pantyhose. He kissed a trail from her neck to her navel as he lowered those garments to her knees. 

She used her feet to remove the slip and the hose and stepped out of the pile of clothing. She had long since removed Danny’s shirt and suspenders and now her hands moved to the zipper that was holding his pants to his hips. In two seconds, he was left with only his boxers. 

Now kissing her mouth, he wrapped his arms around her and walked backward toward the bed. She stopped moving and slid her hands down his chest. 

“I’ll be back,” she promised, heading toward the bathroom. 

“Bring it in here.” 

At the sound of his raspy voice, she looked into his eyes, smiled, and nodded. 

Last month, when they went to see Scott Winkler to ask about trying for another child, he did indeed want them to wait. 

“Finish out the current cycle of pills. Then, at least two normal ovulation and menstrual cycles. Watch what you eat, both of you, although it’s obvious that you do so anyway. Only moderate drinking for now. Once you actually start trying to conceive, no alcohol at all for you, CJ. And don’t overdo the exercise. Too much can sometimes affect the level of your hormones. 

“Now, unless you intend to remain celibate for the next three months or so,” the man smiled, (“three months, we can hardly manage three days,” Danny said under his breath) “let’s get you fitted for a diaphragm and trained in how to use one. Unless you want to go back to using condoms.” The look on Danny’s face told the doctor how well that idea went over. 

It was not the inconvenience and “mood killer” she feared. 

For one thing, they weren’t giddy teenagers and they were no longer newlyweds. Sex was an expected part of their normal lives. Of course, they still marveled at their feeling for each other and they still did the little things that pleased each other, surprised each other, showed their consideration for each other; but, except for times when tempers or disagreements flared, they each knew that their physical needs would be assuaged on an almost daily basis. A smile and a particular caress at 5:30 meant “tonight” more often than it meant “this second.” Inserting the device became part of her normal bedtime routine. 

Morning sex was a bit more spontaneous, but neither of them were spring chickens anymore and they both found themselves needing to use the bathroom as soon as they awoke, so if they woke “in the mood”, the time needed to remove, clean, prepare, and reinsert the diaphragm added only a few minutes to an interruption that was already there. 

It was the occasions like this, when something morphed into foreplay and then into desire, that having to deal with it could be an issue. But Danny managed to make it an erotic part of preparation the first time he asked her to insert the diaphragm while he watched, waiting for her on the bed. He told her that the curve of her back as she lifted one leg and bent over to position it inside her was an incredible turn on. He asked her to vary her stance, sometimes facing him, sometimes facing away from him, sometimes in profile. He asked her to do it sometimes nude, sometimes while wearing a robe. And whenever she finished and looked at him, she saw total desire in his eyes; saw him rampant and ready for her. 

For another thing, using the diaphragm was part of their commitment to each other, to the long run, to the new life they hoped to bring into the world. It was as much a promise to the future, as much as means to an end, as was Danny’s teaching and studying for his PhD was to their goal of a more flexible life for the family. 

And so she returned from the bathroom, nude, and turned so that her left profile was facing him. Setting her right foot on the edge of the table at the foot of the bed, she bent her head and torso so that she formed a comma, her skin picking up the lights from outside the hotel. 

Her task completed, she climbed onto the bed and into his arms. He rotated her beneath him, slid over her, and in her, whispering again his question from earlier in the evening. 

“Have I told you how much I love you, how proud I am of you, how proud I am to be your husband?” 

_December 13, 2010; Tromsø, Norway_

“Mrs. Vinick?” CJ approached the woman, who was sitting by the fire of the inn. 

“CJ.” She smiled, put down her book and patted the empty cushion of the sofa. 

“I wanted to talk with you about my prize money.” Two days ago, on the flight from Oslo, Frank Hollis had mentioned something to their chief fundraiser about endorsing over his check from the Nobel Committee to ‘Road to a Better World’. There was a bit of silence, as if the others were waiting for CJ to make a similar statement, and then the subject was changed. CJ had been waiting since then for time alone with this woman, to try to explain her thoughts about using some of the funds for personal needs. 

She took a deep breath. Now was the time. 

“So that’s why I haven’t said anything to you,” CJ looked intently at the other woman as she finished. 

“CJ, I think you are well within your rights to use the money any way you see fit. First of all, for all the reasons your priest gave you. But also, because life can be uncertain and you need to strike a balance between planning for the future and living in the moment. Don’t put off and put off, assuming that you will always have tomorrow. I’m proof that tomorrow can disappear in an instant. If Danny’s getting his degree will lead to the lifestyle you want to be able to lead, then that is a valid end for which to aim. If being able to take classes full time, without working, will help him to get that degree faster, then it is a valid means to that end.” Effortlessly, she caught the eye of a passing waiter. “Would you please bring us some tea?” 

“How do some people know how to do that?” CJ wondered to herself. “Maybe it’s imbedded in the DNA.” 

A few minutes later, the waiter appeared with a tea service, some sandwiches, and small cakes. 

“So, CJ, do you think we will have any luck tonight?” 

“I’m hoping, but this storm doesn’t show any signs of passing quickly. President Bartlet said that the ones he saw here in Scandinavia were the most spectacular he’d ever seen and that as long as we were in the general region, we should try to see them.” 

Everyone was so disappointed. Bad weather had spoiled any chances of seeing the aurora borealis the past two nights. Early tomorrow morning, they would leave for Washington. Tonight would be their last chance. 

_Later that evening_

“Well, damn.” Frank Hollis’ simple pronouncement spoke of the entire party. The storm would not end until sunrise, just before they were due to take off for Washington (with a refueling stop in Reykjavík). 

Danny wished he could do something about the disappointment that clouded CJ’s face. He had seen faint echoes of the northern lights once or twice on winter camping trips with the Boy Scouts and he knew how much she had wanted to see them on this trip. “Honey, maybe sometime we can take a trip to Alaska, or northeastern Canada.” He gave her a hug. 

She responded with a small smile. “Yeah, maybe.” 

“If you want to see them, plan for it, and relatively soon.” Mrs. Vinick told the two of them. “You never know - ” 

_December 14, 2010; Washington DC (the White House)_

“Congratulations, CJ. The whole country is proud of you.” Matt Santos reached over and kissed her cheek. 

“Well, sir, I think there may be a few dissenters, but thank you. And congratulations to you on winning reelection so handily.” 

He turned around and looked as if he was counting off. “Helen and Frank, Sarita and Danny. Looks like everyone is lined up and ready to go.” He gave a tiny nod and the strains of “Hail to the Chief” started. “Ready for the staircase?” He offered her his arm. 

Later that evening, she was table-hopping when she came upon Will Bailey and Kate Harper. 

“Congratulations, CJ. I’m proud to consider you a friend.” Kate’s lips brushed the side of CJ’s face. 

“Thank you. And congratulations to you, Madame Ambassador.” 

“Ssshh! It’s not been confirmed yet! They’re doing Nancy first.” 

Last week, President Santos had announced that he had chosen Nancy McNally as his new Secretary of State and at the same time named Kate as his choice to replace Nancy at the United Nations. 

“Ms. Harper, Nancy will be a shoo-in and so will you,” CJ laughed. 

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Will offered his own kiss to the Nobel laureate. “I’m already memorizing the Amtrak schedule between here and there.” 

Matt Skinner joined the group and added his congratulations, then asked CJ to dance. 

“So tell me about your godson,” she asked the congressman. 

For the entire set, he talked about the little boy that Rick and Ginger had named for the man who introduced them and for Rick’s recently deceased stepfather. You would have thought Matt had conceived and birthed the little boy himself. 

“Will you be coming to the baptism on Friday? Rick’s mother pulled some strings, their church usually only does baptisms during Sunday services, but since Rick and I have to leave for Switzerland early Saturday morning for the conference, they made an exception. Of course, I’m sure the bishop is well aware of the family name and the family money. Anyway, I hope I’ll see you there. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to come to Carol and David’s on Thursday; there’s Cashman’s wife’s funeral visitation and I’m not sure how long I’ll have to stay. Plus I haven’t begun to think about packing for the trip.” 

She assured Matt that she and Danny would be at little Matty’s baptism, to hear Matt and Rick’s sister renounce Satan in the baby’s name, to see the infant wear the 200 year-old christening dress in the historic Episcopalian church across from the White House. When the set ended, they went to the table where Rick and Ginger were sitting with Carol and David, Rick’s mother, Frank Hollis’ mother and uncle, and Paul. Danny, Josh, and Donna also joined the group. 

“Congratulations again, CJ,” Paul lightly kissed her cheek. “I’m glad I could be here to see you honored by the President. Now, if you all will excuse me, I have a very early parish council meeting tomorrow and I’m still not prepared for it.” 

“You can’t stay for just one dance?” CJ asked the minister. 

“I’m sorry,” he smiled at her. 

Carol brushed her lips against the side of Paul’s face. “But we’ll see you at the party on Thursday.” Carol and David were having a Christmas party/ “say hey to CJ and Danny” party. It would be Carol’s last “activity” before the anticipated birth of her little girl. 

Again, the slight smile, this time directed at his parishioner. “I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything. I’ve got Mrs. Cashman’s funeral visitation and I have her eulogy to prepare. But we still have that meeting Friday morning, don’t we?” 

Carol nodded that they did. 

With handshakes for Matt, David, Josh, and Danny, he left the room. 

CJ wondered a bit at Paul’s standoffishness, but then decided that it probably was a hectic time for him, with Christmas and all. Then she became involved in a discussion of the new babies with Donna and Ginger, and she forgot about the incident. 

Later, as she was looking around the ballroom, she asked Carol about Margaret. 

“I didn’t get much of a chance to speak with her and now she’s left! How’s she doing?” 

“I think the crutches get a bit tiresome, and the President insists that she only put in a nine-hour day. She’ll be at the party on Thursday.” 

“Everything still going okay with her and Hoynes?” 

“Oh, I think so.” 

CJ thought she heard a little laughter under Carol’s tone, but just then Josh and Donna pulled her into a big hora circle. 

_December 15, 2010 Washington DC, Lyman residence_

“Oh, my God, Donna, they’re still so small!” 

CJ looked at the three little infants, their bassinets head to toe as if they were tiny cars on a train. Over each bassinet was a “God danced the day you were born” plaque with the name and birth date. 

“If they get mixed up, can you tell them apart?” Danny joked. Then, reaching for his little namesake, “May I?” 

“Yes, I can tell them apart, and, of course you may,” Donna replied. Then, to the baby in Danny’s arms, “Micah Daniel, this is your godfather. May you grow up to be just as good, kind, and true as he is. Now, where did I put my camera?” 

After pictures of CJ and Danny, first just with Micah, then with Leo and Joanie as well, and finally one with all four Lyman children, CJ, Donna, and Danny settled down in the living room. Josh’s mom said that she and the au pair would handle any baby issues. 

“I can’t believe it,” CJ said, “you with four kids and Ginger with five! How do you all manage?” 

“Well, with Ginger, it’s not an issue, she has all that help. Of course, she’s really involved in all the kids’ lives, the soccer and lacrosse, the school plays, the dance lessons. Me, I’m just so glad that Josh’s mom has moved in with us for the next year. Between her and Lord Marbury’s niece, I manage to have some sort of life. It helps that I’m not nursing this time. ” Donna smiled over her cup of tea. “Plus, I have some idea of what’s going on this time. Be more concerned about Bonnie and Carol, they’re newbies at this motherhood thing. Speaking of which, that must be a big little girl that Carol’s carrying. She’s huge for only seven months, isn’t she?” 

“I guess so. What do you think, Danny?” 

“She just looks like a happy, glowing mom-to-be.” He didn’t like keeping secrets from CJ, but he did promise Carol that he wouldn’t say a thing about the January “surprise” and he was going to keep his word. 

“So, what was it like, having the C-section and being awake for it?” CJ asked. “Did you feel anything at all or were you totally numb? Did you actually see them cut you open and did you see all your innards?” 

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Danny got up, kissed his wife and Donna, and said he would be going to the **_Post_ ** offices for a bit and would stop by to pick up CJ in two hours or so. 

“Good. I was hoping he would react like that and leave,” CJ said. 

“CJ? What’s going on?” 

“Well, and this is just between you and me, we’ve decided to try for another baby.” 

“How wonderful!” Donna hugged her friend. “So, maybe by next fall?” 

“No, no. First of all, I just stopped taking the pill at Thanksgiving. Now we have to make sure that I’m ovulating on a regular basis. Plus Danny has to have periodic sperm counts done twenty-four, forty-eight, and seventy-two hours after we have sex do get an idea of how fast he can recover. That will tell us how often we should have sex right before and during my ovulation window. I can’t get too much exercise, apparently it’s bad for my hormones, who knew?, and we have to watch our diets. So I’m off the pill but I’m using a diaphragm, probably for the next two months, at least, Scott says.” 

"Wouldn't condoms have been easier?" 

"Maybe, but you can tell, at least we can. And, over the past generation or so, condoms have come to imply protection from STDs more than birth control, to imply non-exclusivity. At least, that's the way I see it. With condoms, we'd be buying them all the time and people might look at our rings and wonder why we needed them. Now I just have to buy the jelly. It probably sounds weird, but that's the way I feel." 

“Will you have to do the shoulder-stand thing and use weird positions?” 

“No, not at first. Once we start, we’re supposed to give it a year before we start to ‘wonder’, as Scott put it. But we will have to avoid the ones with me top or the other ones where gravity would come into play in a bad way." 

“Maybe that’s why we’re all so weird, our moms just got pregnant, accidentally or on purpose, without any prep work. And our grandmothers drank all during their pregnancies. You know, all in all, I’m glad everything happened the way it did with the triplets. Total accident, my doctor figures that an antibiotic I took for a strep throat defeated the birth control pill. Plus, now we have all the family we want, so I had my tubes tied when they were in there for the kids. Having what’s essentially four babies at once will be a bit of a wild ride, but we’ll only go through each phase once.” 

They gossiped some more. 

Donna wasn’t sure but she thought that the President and Mrs. Santos were thinking about having another child. A White House baby would be fun, and now that the election was over, no one could accuse them of doing it for “political reasons.” 

Andy and Toby were still “close” but there weren’t any signs of remarriage. “But at least they’re seeing each other. The twins seem much happier.” 

Liz was doing a great job for Mrs. Santos. 

Annabeth was dating someone from the Curator’s office and things were looking serious. 

Mrs. Fitzwallace put her house on the market; she was going to live in Norfolk with her sister, who was also a widow. Carol and David were trying to figure out how they could afford the down payment on the place. Unfortunately, things didn’t look good for the couple. 

Donna made the Dean’s List. 

Margaret seemed particularly glowing this week, even with a broken leg. 

Nancy and Jesse had a fight, but CJ thought they would be making up soon. 

Between little Gemma and being elected on his own merits, Sam was almost (but not quite) too full of himself. 

Paddy said “Mama” four times the week before she left for Norway. He had been saying “Dada” since July. 

Noah had “Dada” down pat but hadn’t said “Mama” yet. Luckily, he was too young to have any sense of sibling rivalry. However, she had been warned that in another year, there might be some issues. 

Hogan looked as if she might be pregnant but CJ was afraid to ask. 

Charlie and Zoey said “not for at least a year.” 

Glen Walken's rehabilitation was going a bit slower than first expected. CJ thought it might help if people sent him cards or paid a visit. 

_December 16, 2010; Washington DC_

“Excuse me.” David tapped his glass to get the attention of his and Carol’s guests. “I have an announcement to make.” 

When everyone had quieted down, he continued. 

“Carol and I welcome you to our home. We are glad that you are here to celebrate the Christmas season with us and to celebrate with CJ as we honor her work, the work that has been recognized by the Nobel Committee. 

“However, we have another reason to celebrate, another life event to toast. This one occurred very privately, this past Sunday, with just the President, Mrs. Santos, Reverend Reeves, Carol, and I as witnesses, in the Gold Room of the White House.” Carol whispered in his ear. “Excuse me, I’m told that you may know it as the Vermeil Room. In any event, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you, for the first time in public, as husband and wife, John and Margaret Hoynes!” 

The former Vice-president helped his new wife to her feet and held her against his frame, supporting her on her one unbroken leg for a few seconds while the party guests clapped, cheered, and expressed their delighted astonishment. Then he gently lowered her back to the chair and helped her prop up the broken leg in its cast. His ruggedly handsome face, already enhanced by the debonair way in which he wore the eye patch, glowed with joy and pride. 

“Much happiness.” CJ hugged Margaret. 

“Be happy.” She lightly kissed her former assistant’s new husband. Then a whisper, a plea as opposed to a threat. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“With God’s help, I won’t.” 

_Later that evening, Lyman residence_

“I wonder why Paul wasn’t at the party.” Josh asked as they got ready for bed. “CJ was really disappointed that he wasn’t there. I would have thought that he could have easily found someone else to take the prayer service at a funeral visitation, even for someone as important as Mrs. Cashman.” 

“Just between you and me, I think Paul is trying to distance himself from CJ.” Donna pulled her hair back and began to braid it loosely. 

“Distance himself?”Josh stepped behind her and took over the task, wondering why she wanted her hair restrained. Normally, it would be a signal that although she was tired, she was available to him if he desired; but he should not be concerned about bringing her to climax before letting go himself. Of course, she was still recovering from the Caesarian, would be for at least two more weeks before he could make love with her. 

“I think that on one level, he’s still in love with her and that at times it gets to be too much.” 

“Really?” 

“Looking objectively, can you imagine someone being that much in love with her at one point in time and not having residual feelings? And he probably is thinking that had the timing been different he could have had her again in his life. I mean, when his wife died, if he hadn’t been in such deep mourning, he could have looked up CJ, he knew where she was, after all, and maybe rekindled a relationship with her before Danny made his move.” 

“Are you saying that he would have wanted his wife to die earlier, or to not have loved her so much? That’s a terrible thing to say, Donnatella!” 

Donna turned around and socked his arm. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that he might sometimes wonder ‘what if?’ And I’m sure that when he finds himself doing it, he feels guilt, first because of his wife, and then because he can see how happy CJ is with Danny.” 

“Well, my darling, I think you are assuming too much from a mere man. We’re not as complex as you women.” 

“Oh, never say that, Joshua,” she kissed him. “You are a very complex man.” Then she stood. “I’m going to check on the kids one more time. With any luck, all four of them will sleep six hours.” 

“Well, if they don’t, I’ll take the first shift.” Josh gave her a little shove toward the expanded nursery and got into bed. 

_December 17, 2010; Washington DC, National City Christian Church offices_

“Paul, your 10:45 is here.” 

“Thank you, please show her in.” Paul closed the computer files and locked the screen. As the door to his office opened, he turned to it. “Well, Carol, are we ready for – CJ?” 

“I’m going to go talk with the choir director.” Carol gave Paul a slight smile and left the room. 

“CJ?” Paul looked at her. 

“Don’t blame Carol. I pulled rank; she worked for me for six years as my assistant and I had her do a lot of sneaky things. But something’s going on, and I mean to find out.” 

“Going on?” 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“CJ, I’m not avoiding you. It’s a busy time; Mrs. Cashman’s funeral plus Christmas, secret weddings, that sort of thing.” 

“Paul, you never were a very good liar. That’s one of the things I loved about you.” 

The intercom buzzed. 

“Excuse me, just a minute.” He left the office. 

She walked around the room, looking at the pictures, the plaques, the awards. 

She stopped by a series of pencil sketches. They were obviously the twins, from toddlers to teens, four each of Deborah and Derrick. They were all initialed with a highly stylized “ADR”; they were all also extremely good. 

She heard the door close. “Alicia did these? Did she study or was it just a hobby?” 

“She was an Art major when we met. I sometimes wonder if I kept her from something great when I took her away from Yale after her sophomore year. She eventually went back and got the degree, but by that time she was wrapped up in me and the kids.” 

“Did she paint?” 

“Some, and she sculpted. She made some modifications to our builder’s plans as well. But drawing was her passion.” For some reason, he felt the need to share more and reached into his lower left hand drawer. “Here’s some more of her stuff.” 

The pages, apparently torn from a sketchbook, were encased in plastic covers. There were sketches of the twins from the missing years on the wall, some drawings of dogs, horses, a garden. One of Paul in the pulpit, another of him with two babies in his arms. There was a beautiful little sketch of Paul with his father, another man (maybe Alicia’s father?), and Derrick dated “Father’s Day 1995”. 

She turned another page. 

“Oh.” 

He had forgotten that that particular drawing was in the album, but he had not forgotten the sketch. It was from their honeymoon, from the private patio off the little cottage in Bermuda. He was on one of the lounges, nude, looking at the sunrise, in morning prayer. Alicia had blushed when she showed it to him; they had only been married and intimate for five days. 

“If my memory isn’t failing me, she did a very good job,” CJ said lightly. 

You could sense the satin of mahogany skin over sinew, the firm planes of the abdominal muscles. The strength of the arms, the calves, and the thighs resonated in the shading of the pencil strokes, but you knew that there was tenderness to be found inside their embrace. There was dimension in the curling hair that triangulated from the chest into an arrow pointed toward the pubic region, where the silky softness of the genitals, substantial and solid even in repose, invited one’s touch. But in the end, you were pulled to the face, its chin resting on clasped hands, the face that bespoke of love and gentleness, honesty and caring, reflecting the sun, glowing with thanks to the Creator for the new day. 

Then it hit her. There was nothing lustful or physical; there was nothing that trespassed on what she felt for Danny, what she had promised to Danny. But she could not deny the depth of the emotional bond she still had with this man. She realized now what he had been feeling and she realized that he did not have presence of someone else in his life to help keep that emotional bond in check. And in this culture, in this ethos, you were trained to have this bond with only one person at a time; it was imbedded in your genes. 

The look that she gave him and that he gave her in return said everything. A tear escaped from her eye as she put her arms around his waist and rested her forehead on his chest. His hands came to rest on her shoulders. 

“Am I going to have to lose you again? To no longer have you in my life?” 

He kissed the top of her head. 

“No, we don’t have to lose each other again. We just need to take the time to work this out, separately. For a little while, we maybe need to keep in touch via Carol and David.” 

Then he lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “But if you ever need me, you call me, come to me.” 

“Ditto. And, about when you were with us in October; those bruises. He would never do anything like that, intentionally. But it’s good to know that you care. Now, show me the rest of these sketches, show me around the place.” 

Carol joined them a few minutes later and the subject turned to the newlyweds. 

“I can’t believe that you married John and Margaret,” she playfully socked Paul in the arm, “and you were there,” a glare at Carol, “and you wouldn’t tell me about it!” 

“John and Margaret married each other, I just witnessed their vows, as did Carol,” Paul corrected her. 

“They really did want to keep it low-key,” Carol added. “I think that Baltimore made them realize how much they meant to each other. Ooh!” 

The other two could see her reaction to the baby’s kick. 

“Carol, I think that little girl wants to give you and David a deduction for this year’s taxes,” CJ joked. 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind her coming early, being pregnant is getting old.” 

_8:30 PM December 25, 2010; Santa Monica CA_

It had been a hectic Christmas Day, what with Paddy tearing around like a whirling dervish, the phone calls from friends and family, including pictures of “first Christmas” from Sam and Morgan, Bonnie and Jean-Luc, and Rick and Ginger and first “Chrismakuh” from Josh and Donna, and the joyous news from Hank and Steve that they would be parents in July. 

But now, Paddy was out like the proverbial light and they had the evening to themselves. 

They had been in the hot tub and were now in the family room, sitting on big throw cushions by the tree. She wore a sleeveless short robe, loosely tied at her waist. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I have one more gift for you.” She handed him a slim box. 

It was the size of a wallet box but the box was too light to be holding much of anything. He untied the ribbon, removed the paper and lifted the lid. 

It was a check made out to him. The amount was in the low six figures. 

“CJ?” 

“It’s two full years’ tuition plus three full years’ salary for the classes you’ve been teaching. I want you to be able to go to school full-time and get your degrees as soon as possible. It’s part of the prize money.” She told him of her conversations with Mrs. Vinick. “I’m putting the remainder of the prize into ‘Road to a Better World’. But this will get you to this milestone as quickly as possible. 

“I want us to have 30 or more years together with each other, with Paddy, with another child, if God wills, with our friends and families. And I know we’ll be happier when you are teaching at an advanced level, when you have more flexibility in your professional life. I’m not going to dwell on it, but I’m aware of how much uncertainty, how much chance, there can be and if I can bring your goal of a doctorate and teaching to fruition more quickly, then I want to do it.” 

He set aside the box, reached for her hands, and kissed them. 

Then he pulled her to him and kissed her. His hands began to untie the sash at her waist. 

She slipped away from him, holding his hand, then just his fingers, for as long as possible. 

She realized that by using the diaphragm, she and Danny were making a commitment to God and to the child they hoped He would give them. They would conceive the child in love and anticipation but not in anxiety over ovulation or sperm count. They would conceive this child with bodies that had been consciously prepared to be in optimal condition to produce seed and egg and to nurture the union of the two – hers to carry, his to care for hers. This temporary inconvenience, while disruptive to carnal love, was part of their greater love, the love that would see them through the rest of their lives together. 

He rose as she returned to the room. 

While she was gone, he had removed the towel and he stood there, bathed in the glow from the tree. Where the yellows, oranges, and reds of the tree lights hit the fine downy hairs of his arms and legs, he seemed to glisten. Pieces of tinsel clung to his shoulders, clung to the fine hairs of his chest, to the thin line of hair that trailed down from his chest to his groin. The greens, blues, and purples from the tree shimmered on the pieces of silvery foil. The northern lights she had awaited in vain earlier in the month were now present in her family room, were now present on the body of the man she loved. She had faith that someday soon they would see the _aurora borealis_ in the skies over Alaska, or Canada, or maybe back in Scandinavia; for now, she would wonder at its reproduction on her husband. 

He held out a hand to her, summoning her to his radiance. She undid the knot at her waist, slipped the gossamer shift from her shoulders, and walked into his arms. 

As they slipped to the floor, they realized that while tonight could not yet be a night for new life, it would be a night for reaffirming the ongoing love between them, for reaffirming the hopes for growing closer to each other, for trusting that life would bring them many good things to share and nothing so bad that their love could not conquer. 

\-------------------------------------------- 

_“God Danced the Day You Were Born”_

– attributed to Richard Kramer 

God danced the day you were born. 

You are loved, you are beautiful, you are gift of God, His own possession. 

You are gift to all mankind, His gift of love to them, You are His. 


End file.
